


In which Bill Cipher invades Mabel's mind, is choked by Technicolor sparkles, and fights a vampire

by othellia



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Mind Palace, Penguins, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4797575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/othellia/pseuds/othellia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's pretty much all there in the title.</p><p>Mabel Pines has a code buried in her memories that Bill Cipher wants. His only problem? Mabel's inner mindscape is combo of Rainbow Unicorn Attack and Smile Dip overdose explosions where niceness reigns supreme.</p><p>Written for Mabill Week on tumblr. Prompt was Mabel's Dream (Demon) Boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Bill Cipher invades Mabel's mind, is choked by Technicolor sparkles, and fights a vampire

“Sorry, Shooting Star,” Bill said as he slipped into the mind of the slumbering girl. “Underneath all that silliness, you’re pretty sharp. I’ll give you that. But you’re no Stan Pines. The mind of a kid is no match for- ACK! BLEGH!”

Bill Cipher was a being of pure energy. He didn’t have a mouth. It was impossible for him to choke, and yet he was.

For millennia he’d invaded the minds of humanity. He’d seen all sort of indescribable horrors. He’d bathed in the lusts of serial killers and delusions of mad men. Had caused quite a few of those too.

But this mind took the cake.

A technicolor wasteland hopped up on over five different hallucinogens lay before him. There were the usual mind paths and memory doors, he could focus on that much at least. But the doors rested on moving- no,  _speeding_  walkways. They zipped from left and right, up and down, blurring faster than he could track. Every single object - and Star’s mind was _overloaded_  with objects - was a blasted mismatch of colors that shifted rapidly from hue to hue.

It hurt his eye. It hurt his  _mind_.

“Oh, hey Mr. Evil Egyptian Dorito!” Shooting Star herself came bounding over a nearby hill, completely unfazed by the monstrosities around them. “Ooh! Ooh! Did you come to check out my mind? How’dya like it?” She dropped to the ground and rolled the last several feet.

Bill felt himself turn red with frustration. His thoughts were fuzzy, scattered by all the mental distraction, but he knew the girl would pay for this… this  _insult_.

Seconds later he was tackled by two green and neon-pink penguins.

“You don’t look very happy to be here,” Shooting Star said with an accusatory finger. “And only people that play nicely can stay here. ‘Kay thanks, byeee!”

She waved at him with both hands and he was abruptly shoved out of her mind.

_That little-_

Below him, the girl continued to slumber in blissful peace. She snored softly, drool slowly leaking from the orifice she called a mouth. Disgusting.

Bill shuddered.

He’d get the code that was buried in that twisted brain of hers. One way or another.

* * *

Bill stumbled, trying to get the hang of his new legs. They were taller than Pine Tree’s, more unsteady. His new hair was annoying too. Not that it itched, per se. Pain and other unpleasant sensations didn’t exist in the mindscape - much to his eternal disappointment, but the feeling was close enough. The follicles had substance and were simply… there.

His new form was everything he hated, and therefore the perfect disguise.

By now, Bill had lost count of the times he’d been expelled from Shooting Star’s mindscape. His one consolation was that he’d been able to gather more and more reconnaissance info each time. If there was anything more common than cute, fuzzy animals prancing about in the desperate girl’s mind, it was her legions and legions of imaginary boyfriends.

It made him want to laugh at her. He would have, loud and mocking, if it would’ve gotten him anything other than thrown out again. No, he could return and laugh at her later, _after_ he’d found the code he’d came here for.

With his disguise he was finally able to blend in with the 90’s retro color vomit and explore to his heart’s content without the fear of penguins.

Despite that, it still didn’t remove initial difficulty.

Bill opened door after door where he could, but the changing locations and colors made it nearly impossible to keep track of which ones he’d already riffled through. With so much jumbling of core memories, he bleakly wondered how the girl was able to remember anything at all. He had to admit though, with just a touch of pride as he involuntarily opened the same memory of the girl smushing gummi worms up her nose for the third time, in her own special way, Shooting Star was just as insane as he was.

If only she could see within herself to her true potential… use her chaos for the greater bad…

Bill was peeking his head in a door sequestered away beneath spiraling crystal staircase, when a shrill voice sent chills down his newly formed spine.

“Hey, you! Yeah, you!”

He turned, a sinking feeling in his human stomach. Shooting Star balanced precariously on her toes behind him. Her hands covered her mouth as she grinned wildly behind them, her face quickly turning the same shade as her coral sweater.

“Soooo,” she said, apparently trying to keep a cool face by way her lips flattened but kept twitching up, betraying her inner glee. Not that there was much hidden, inner ‘anything’ in the mindscape. Bill could feel the giddiness radiating off her in nauseating waves. “Is that a space suit you’re wearing?”

Bill looked down in confusion. The colors he’d picked were a bit irregular for a human suit - yellow and black a bit more _him -_  but it was a still a regular suit.

“BECAUSE YOU LOOK OUT OF THIS WORLD!” Shooting Star yelled before launching straight into, “My name’s Mabel, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before, what’s your name mysterious stranger, oh wait don’t tell me, it’s Kevin, right, right, you look like a Kevin, you are so totally a Kevin.”

Bill stared at her.

“Ooh! You’re late for the party, Kevin!”

“What party?” he finally said.

Oh, that was weird. Mouths were weird. Speaking with mouths was weird.

“Pshaw,” Mabel said, flapping her hand. “The _dance_ party of course!”

Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could stop her. Bill stumbled after her as she raced through the hallways and sidewalks of her mind, the ends of his yellow tailcoat fluttering behind him. He had to close his eye to keep from growing dizzy. Occasionally he’d take a peek, make sure she wasn’t leading him toward a bottomless pit. At one point they passed over a large pedestrian bridge with thousands of multi-colored Volkswagens racing below. Or was it a rainbow-hued river with chittering dolphins? It changed too quickly to be sure.

An enormous palace materialized in front of them in an explosion of glitter. Its gem-encrusted double doors, taller than his beloved pyramids, creaked open at their approach.

Inside, Shooting Star’s dance party awaited.

She let go of his hand soon after that, all her concentration poured into bizarrely flailing about. The movements were in time with the music, but other that than, he could hardly call it dancing. If anything, it was a complete and utter regression to the earliest tribal customs of wandering hominids.

A disco chandelier hung above, almost as large as the entire room. Multiple times, Bill tried to take advantage of her distraction to sneak out a side door. He had a mission after all. But no matter how out of it she seemed, Star caught him every single time, grabbing hold his wrist and reeling him back in.

“Don’t be such a grumpy pants, Kevin!” Shooting Star called out. “Come on and dance! Get jiggy with it!”

Bill glanced around the room. The partygoers were a mixture of boys and girls, though - with the exception of Star’s two partners in crime - the other girls’ faces were featureless, copied off a blank template for the illusion of their presence. Not that the boys fared much better. Shooting Star clearly had a type, the boys all variations off the same generically symmetrical theme.

It was actually disappointed really, given the irrestrainable chaos of the rest of her imagination.

Conscious of Star’s eyes still on him, Bill crossed his arms and tapped his foot lightly in time. It seemed to be enough for Star who nodded in approval and quickly went back to her own spaced-out mind within a mind.

Bill was just beginning to wonder if he should cut his losses and come back the next day as an aardvark or something, when all the windows slammed open. A harsh gale blew, fluttering the curtains.

The partygoers parted suddenly to reveal a russet-haired boy at the front of the ballroom. His fists were clenched, his attention aimed directly at Bill and Star in the center of room. Despite his murderous expression, the boy’s shirt was only half-buttoned, revealing a pale, luminous chest that seemed to… sparkle?

It ruined the effect of whatever he had going for him.

Shooting Star gasped.

“No!” she said in mock dismay. Even in her fantasies she was a terrible overactor. “How can you be here, Edward! I told you we were done! I don’t want to see your face anymore! I’ve found someone new!”

“But Mabel!” the boy entreated. “How can I ever forget the vision of your face! It is seared into my mind and heat like the stars of the sky! I will never let you belong to another man!”

“Oh, Kevin!” Shooting Star cried out, shutting her eyes and sweeping a dramatic hand across her forehead as Edward raced forward to claim her. “Protect me!”

Bill stared at the scene, his mind completely blank. As Edward’s fingers came within inches of Star, his entire body froze. Star’s eyes snapped open a crack, and she glared at Bill.

“Psst! That your cue!” she hissed.

Bill continued to stare. Everyone else in room was frozen as well, their hands at their cheeks, mouths gaping at the drama unfolding before them. Everyone except…

At the ballroom doors lurked a penguin bouncer. It narrowed its eyes at him, slowly shaking its head in warning. If Bill didn’t want to get kicked out of Shooting Star’s head for the umpteenth time that week, he’d have to play the part.

Bill was beginning to wonder how much he _really_ needed this code in the grand scheme of things.

With a depressed sigh, he reached forward and pushed Edward away. At the light touch, the man was thrown back, skidding across the marble floor.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!”

The crowd had regained consciousness and, with it, an surprising blood lust. Bill glanced behind himself at Shooting Star. The girl’s eyes were wide and her braces gleamed as she grinned wildly, her fists clenched tightly to her chest in excitement for the impending battle. Already Edward was pushing himself off the floor, getting ready to charge again.

Well, if a battle was what Shooting Star wanted, Bill was more than open to that.

As Edward approached again, a black cane materialized in Bill’s hands. He twirled it briefly before shoving it handle first into the man’s stomach, grinning at the resulting grunt of pain.

The fight was over before it began really. Bill had no intention of losing and he doubted Shooting Star did either - the wonders of mentally pre-destined outcomes. Still, it didn’t mean he couldn’t _try_ to enjoy himself. The war chants of the crowd made for a pleasant background track as well.

Dawn came suddenly, light streaming in through the dozens of windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. With a final sweeping kick, Bill knocked Edward back into one of the patches of light. His skin instantly began to smoke.

“Noooo!” the figment of Shooting Star’s imagination cried out. “I was supposed to-“ He let out a final anguished scream, “Sparrrrrrrkle~!!!!!1!!11!”

His screams echoed across the cavernous ballroom before finally dissipating.

“Well,” Shooting Star said, coming up to stand next to Bill. She smiled at the tiny pyramid of ash of Edward’s corpse. “That was fun.”

Bill looked around the grand ballroom that was continuing to brighten. Awwww _hell_. How much time had he wasted at this ridiculous dance party. If the light was a reflection of reality, Star was bound to wake up any minute now. He’d have to come back the next night and do it all _again_.

“Turns out you can play nicely after all,” Shooting Star said.

Bill stared at her.

“What did you say?”

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes as she flapped a hand dismissively. “Like I didn’t notice. Even if a dorito changes its shape, it’s still a dorito.”

Bill continued to stare at her.

He’d wasted the entire night for _nothing_. The world bled red, his skin melting into black ink as shadows crept forward from the corners of the ballroom.

“Hey!” the girl said, her brows scrunching in anger. “What’d I say about _playing nicely_?”

Strong flippers suddenly grabbed hold of his arms, and his stomach dropped.

He’d forgotten about the penguin.

It swung Bill in a wide arc until he was sick from dizziness, then hurled him up and out of Shooting Star’s mind, spinning out through the walls of the twins' bedroom and back into the surrounding woods. It took longer than it should’ve for the blissfully grey surroundings to right themselves. 

Bill snapped red again, fire crackling around his sides as he glared at the Mystery Shack. A thousand imagined disasters consumed it at once, viciously ripping apart the humans inside.

And then he cooled off, his arms trailing bonelessly next to his legs.

Shooting Star had completely played him. All things considered… he had to give her credit for that.

Not bad.

Not bad at all.


End file.
